THIS week we have another early story by the prolific O.B. Myers! Myers was a pilot himself, flying with the 147th Aero Squadron and carrying two credited victories and awarded the Distinguished Service Cross.

Bert had been in France for almost two years, including two months over the front with the Lafayette, but had no Huns to his credit. He didn’t want to be known as a cloud-killer, but what can you do when the situation doesn’t present itself….. From the pages of the October 1929 issue of Wings it’s O.B. Myer’s “Cloud-Killer!”

They called him a joy-rider, a cloud-killer—and a war going on! Tremaine waited to answer the slight—and a day came when his guns didn’t jam and his motor carried him through to a winged target.

• Download “Cloud-Killer” (October 1929, Wings)

As a bonus, Obie was featured in Sergeant L.E. Jaeckel’s “American Aviators in the World War” column in The Charlotte Observer (The foremost newspaper of the two Carolinas) Friday July 22nd, 1932 (Page 17). It’s retelling of the events that led to Obie being awarded the Distinguished Service Cross.

FIRST LIEUTENANT OSCAR B. MYERS.

THERE comes the time in the career of every aviator when he wants to do something that is just a little beyond the assigned mission. Patrolling in itself should provide enough excitement for any one person. The flyer never knows when he will be called upon to give account of himself, whether on an equal footing with his enemy, or whether to engage in combat with formations many times his equal. Considering all the hazards of war time flying, irrespective of the mission, it would seem that the aviator would be satisfied with the common dangers of his profession without seeking the new.

Ground straffing is an art. Successfully performed, it has been shown what a demoralizing effect it can have upon an enemy, yet it is in all likelihood one of the most dangerous of the aerial missions. Men were trained for it specially. Now and then we find one of our flyers making what might be called a noble experiment of this business on his own. Lieutenant Oscar B. Myers of the 147th Aero Squadron was a fellow who obviously preferred to secure his taste of it by the experimental method.

Near Clerges on September 28th the routine of patrol duty evidently became monotonous for him. Several hundred meters below him there were German troops that could provide him with the action and excitement he craved. Accordingly he swooped down upon them and opened fire with his machine guns. If there has ever been any doubt about the combat qualities of ground straffing, here was irrefutable evidence of its merits. The troops, on their way to the front lines, turned and ran in all directions, throwing panic into the reserves behind them who also sought, such cover as was available.

With the retreat of the troops and the incessant fire from antiaircraft artillery showering him with fusilades becoming uncomfortably close, Lieutenant Myers gained altitude to hunt more action. The little fray in which he had just participated merely whetted his appetite for more. It was not long in coming. Some distance to the northward there appeared a formation of 10 planes, one of which he immediately recognized as an observation plane. Now if there was anything Lieutenant Myers especially wanted to bag it was an observation plane, but how to get to it. It was surrounded by nine Fokkers, all determined to protect their charge at, any cost. As if in answer to his dilemma, two American planes appeared at the moment, and Lieutenant Myers drafted them to assist him. The three machines then launched a vigorous attack upon the enemy formation, Myers not forgetting his chief object.

Throughout the hot combat he did little but fight in an effort to drive away the protection planes. He maneuvered so skillfully that it was not long until he had separated three of the machines from the formation and driven them off. His companions, meanwhile, were having it tooth and nail with the other half dozen contenders. Lieutenant Myers jumped in again noticing that the other planes always closed in on their charge as their ranks were thinned. Finally, with a last great effort, the American trio opened up the enemy flight and Lieutenant Myers grasped his opportunity. He banked above the sextette and dived straight at the observation machine. For a few brief minutes it careened madly, then hurst into flames and fell.

• Download “American Aviators in the World War” (22 July 1932, The Charlotte Observer)

And if that wasn’t enough…

For all his many published stories, O.B. Myer’s didn’t really have any series characters. The few recurring characters he did have in the pages of Dare-Devil Aces, we’ve collected into a book we like to call “The Black Sheep of Belogue: The Best of O.B. Myers” which collects the two Dynamite Pike and his band of outlaw Aces stories and the handful of Clipper Stark vs the Mongol Ace tales. If you enjoyed this story, you’ll love these stories!

THROUGH the dark night sky, streaking swiftly with their Hisso engines thundering, is the greatest trio of aces on the Western Front—the famous and inseparable “Three Mosquitoes,” the mightiest flying combination that had ever blazed its way through overwhelming odds and laughed to tell of it! Flying in a V formation—at point was Captain Kirby, impetuous young leader of the great trio; on his right was little Lieutenant “Shorty” Carn, the mild-eyed, corpulent little Mosquito and lanky Lieutenant Travis, eldest and wisest of the Mosquitoes on his left!

We’re back with the third and final of three Ralph Oppenheim’s Three Mosquitoes stories we’re featuring this March for Mosquito Month! And this one’s a doozy! Allied intelligence had learned that the Germans had built a great seaplane, destined to turn the whole tide of the naval war. This seaplane was not only a compact fighting and raiding ship, but it could make remarkable speed and cover remarkable distance. It was even rumored that the Germans proposed to send a whole fleet of these new planes across the Atlantic, with the object of raiding the American coast!

Many had been sent and tried to destroy the Reutz Aircraft Factory where said seaplane was being built and developed but were unsuccessful. Our intrepid Trio has been sent in a huge bomber alone, in an effort to get through and take out the plant. But when they are shot down 45 miles behind enemy lines—it’s Travis who comes up with a plan that will take them into the heart of the beast, through enemy jaws, to complete their mission and take out the plant! Read all about it in Ralph Oppenheim’s “Through Enemy Jaws” from the December 1929 issue of Sky Riders!

Into that maelstrom of screaming lead and crashing shells went the Three Mosquitoes, the dare-devils whom nothing could stop. Into that nest of spies and intrigue they dove, on the most treacherous mission they had ever had. Would the demonic, mysterious enemy seaplane gain through? The lives of millions hung breathlessly in the balance!

• Download “Through Enemy Jaws” (December 1929, Sky Riders)

THIS week we have a story by J.D. Rogers, Jr. Rogers is credited with roughly fourteen tales from the pages of Flying Aces, Sky Birds and Sky Aces. “The Yellow Ace” from the August 1929 Flying Aces was his first published tale. In it James Lawrence arrives on the tarmac of the 23rd Squadron R.F.C. with his newly designed fighter plane. In the make-up of this plane was the knowledge and experience of a young man who had played and worked in his father’s aeroplane factory since age permitted. Prompted by zealous patriotic duty he had built this super fighter for his country, a country which the warring nations had far surpassed in the art of building aircraft. Refused a fair demonstration of his plane by a very inexperienced air board, the youth, with his flame of patriotism quenched, turned from his own country to England whose air board was frantic for a plane fast enough and maneuverable enough to successfully combat the German demons who had held the air supremacy through the war.

England welcomed the American. Her air experts praised the flying qualities of his plane demonstrated in trying maneuvers, but they were skeptical of its fighting ability. It was then that the youth, reckless because of miserable failure at home and unexpected success abroad, offered to fly his plane in real combat to prove its fighting ability. The air board, convinced that the pilot knew the maneuvers of air combat, gave him a thirty day trial upon the battle front to prove his handiwork. . .

Read the thrilling adventures of the man who was branded a coward. Follow flaming tracers as they eat into his plane. Watch him zig-zag through steel-spattered skies—and see if he’s yellow!

• Download “The Yellow Ace” (August 1929, Flying Aces)

THIS week we have another story by Alfred Hall Stark. Stark wrote a dozen or so stories for the pulps, frequently dealing with aviation, in the late twenties and early thirties before building a reputation for writing well-researched, fact-based articles for The Reader’s Digest, Popular Science, Saturday Evening Post and others.

As we found out in the letter Flying Aces published the month before last week’s story and two months before “Decoys of Doom”, Stark had written and submitted this story to the magazine first. From the July 1929 Flying Aces, it’s Alfred Hall Stark’s “Decoys of Doom.”

Every day the patrol went over the lines, and came back minus one plane and one man. Only the missing flyers could tell how they had mysteriously vanished—and the dead were turning in no reports at H.Q.

• Download “Decoys of Doom” (July 1929, Flying Aces)

THIS week we have a story by Alfred Hall Stark. Stark wrote a dozen or so stories for the pulps, frequently dealing with aviation, in the late twenties and early thirties. Stark was a pseudonym for Afred Halle Sinks. Sinks was a native of Ohio, who won his reportorial spurs in New York before heading to Porto Rico to work on the Porto Rico Progress published in San Juan. When sinks returned to the US, he was a staff writer for Popular Science and The Reader’s Digest building a reputation for writing well-researched, fact-based articles for those publications as well as others and newspapers.

Stark wrote “The Hurricane Kid” while still in Porto Rico. It was published in the June 1929 issue of Flying Aces.

Meet Crashing Kid Sperry, the Crack-Up King of the Caribbean, on the payroll as a curiosity. He got sore at the boss, became an air bandit and flew with sensational audacity right into a raging hurricane. Did he come out alright? Read it and see!

• Download “The Hurricane Kid” (June 1929, Flying Aces)

In a brief biographical paragraph from an article in 1963, Alfred Halle Sinks was said to be living in Philadelphia and responsible for the public information program that launched Bucks County’s open space conservation program. By that time he had been editor of the Bucks County Traveler, as well as a staff writer for Popular Science and Reader’s Digest, and had contributed articles to the Saturday Evening Post, Collier’s, Ladies Home Journal, and other leading national magazines.

As a bonus, here’s a letter from Alfred Hall Stark that Flying Aces published in the March issue—the month before the issue this story ran.

Sinks was living in Carversville, Bucks County, Pennsylvania when he passed away October 26th, 1974.

THIS week we have a story by Franklin M. Ritchie. Ritchie only wrote aviation yarns and his entire output—roughly three dozen stories—was between 1927 and 1930, but Ritchie was not your typical pulp author—he was a lawyer who wrote pulp stories on the side to satisfy his yen for flying.

Jack Gorham flew in a trance. “Thirty hours to live!” he muttered, talking to himself under the roar of the motor and the fierce screaming of the wind in his wires. “That’s all a pilot has on the front!” And mechanically he fell into the formation. Swiftly they winged toward the front. The trenches zigzagged under them, and suddenly Gorham realized that he was over German territory, “Thirty hours to live!” he repeated to himself. . .

With a weird shrieking whir, the airplane streaked for earth like a flaming comet. The pilot’s chum turned yellow and fled, but—read it and see for yourself!

• Download “Thirty Hours to Live” (April 1929, Sky Birds)

As a bonus, here’s a letter from Franklin M. Ritchie that Flying Aces published in the March issue—the month before the issue this story ran.

THIS week we have another story by the prolific O.B. Myers! Myers was a pilot himself, flying with the 147th Aero Squadron and carrying two credited victories and awarded the Distinguished Service Cross. Following up his first story last week, we have his second published story. “Pip” Preston brings down the great von Stangel. But von Stangel turns out to be an undercover agent…. From the pages of the January 31st, 1929 issue of War Stories it’s O.B. Myer’s “The Buzzard’s Guest!”

Either that lone Jerry was afraid to fight, or else he thought he was too good. But he needed a better excuse than either of those to run from a Yankee ace and get away with it.

• Download “The Buzzard’s Guest” (31 January 1929, War Stories)

Somewhere in France

With another story by O.B. Myers we have another letter from the front reprinted in O.B.’s hometown paper the MOUNT VERNON ARGUS. This one isn’t by O.B. though, it’s from a fellow Mount Vernonite who ran into old Myers as they called him in France who offered to take him for a ride!

Published in the MOUNT VERNON ARGUS, May 25th, 1918:

Following is an extract from a letter received by his parents from Corporal Valentine Treyvoux from “Somewhere in France”:

Well, I’ve got a bit of real news that may be of interest. Your boy is “flying very high these days’’ I bumped into another old Mount Vernonite, old Oscar Myers, who is first lieutenant in the aviation. We sat around and talked for awhile and he said if the weather was fine the following day he would give me the flight or fright of my life. You can bet I was Johnny Thomson on hand—and up we went. Holy smoke! I thought for sure I was straight on my way to meet St. Peter. The earth soon faded beneath us and I found myself passing as Myers called it, through cloud banks. Gee! but it sure was a funny feeling. We dropped down a few hundred feet, about 600 or 700 and gradually mother earth hove into view. Then he thought he would pull a few stunts as he called it, and so he looped the loop, glided, banked and a few others which I forgot in the excitement and then we made a beautiful volplane to the sod. Well, I Just can’t begin to explain or express the feeling one has while in the air, or while doing some of those things, but one thing I can say is this. Before going up we were strapped into the seats with a big strap across our chest and when doing the loop, the machine is turned completely upside down and there we were out of our seats and lying flat on this belt face to earth. Boy, oh boy! that’s the only time I said good-bye to friends so dear, to home and mother in fact everything, but it was only for a moment for he again righted her and it was over. I’ve given you but a vague description, Mother and Dad, but I guess you can get some idea as to what we did. Just as soon as I have a chance again and it’s a fine day, I’m going to bring Mac over and the three of us are going up.

I sure do envy old Myers that’s what we used to call him, but now it’s Lieutenant Myers.

Have Just been called so will close for a while.

Your boy who is always thinking of you. —VAL.

THIS week we have a story by the prolific O.B. Myer’s! Myers was a pilot himself, flying with the 147th Aero Squadron and carrying two credited victories and awarded the Distinguished Service Cross. The story this week is the first Myers had published in the pulp! Printed in the pages of the January 1929 issue of War Birds, it’s “No Heroes Allowed.”

“Pop” was training these fledglings of his to be careful. He didn’t want any heroes whose medals and extra breeches are sent home through the mail.

• Download “No Heroes Allowed” (January 1929, War Birds)

A Letter from O.B.

As a bonus we have a letter O.B. wrote home to his folks during The Great War that was shared in his hometown paper, the MOUNT VERNON ARGUS. The letter was written on October 11th, the day after he lost two of his pals—Lt. Wilbert White who went down and Billy Brotherton who failed to return from his solo flight. Events described in “No Heroes Allowed” seem reminiscent of events in O.B.’s letter.

Published in the MOUNT VERNON ARGUS, November 13th, 1918:

Dr. S Oscar Myers, of this city, has received the following letter under date of October 11, at the front, from his son First Lieutenant O.B. Myers, of the aviaition section:

“Not only do things happen pretty fast around here, but they happen so fast that you can’t keep your letters even with ’em. Enough comes off most every day to fill an ordinary epistle, but for that very reason, one can’t write every day, nor anywhere near it. Here goes to tell something about yesterday, anyway.

The things which seem to stand out most prominently are that I participated—more actively this time—in shooting down a Hun, and that two pilots from my flight—my ‘buddies,’ as we call ’em—were lost.

Three of us. “White-ee,” Ken Porter and myself, went out on a voluntary patrol about noon; we found a single two-seater way up high just over the lines and attacked. Ken Porter waited to one side to look out for others or to come to our assistance if necessary; White dived first and fired a few bursts, but his guns jammed and he drew off. Then I dived on him and fired quite a burst; just as I dove past his tail and started to pull around on him again, I noticed that the right gun was Jammed. Then the motor quit going (found later than an air pressure lead from the gas tank had broken off), and I noticed that one of the sheet metal handhole covers on the side of the hood had come off and wrapped itself around one of the wires. That made me think that the motor had been hit (I had seen the boche observer shooting at me and his tracer bullets going past as I was diving on him) so I kept right on diving out of the fight, and eventually glided back and made a landing about five kilometres behind our lines. Ken Porter reported that he saw the Hun falling, apparently out of control, directly after and took a few shots at long range, but couldn’t follow him down because others were approaching. So I think my bullets were the ones that got him this time, all right. It took me all the afternoon to get a telephone call through to the aerodrome, to get a car sent up after me, and when I got back about 9:30. I found that White had gone out on another patrol later In the afternoon, got into a fight and ran head-on into a Hun, both going down out of control completely, of course, Besides that, Brotherton, the other chap from our flight went over on a strafing trip, alone and never came back. The tough part is that ’White-ee.” having been on the front here for several months, was slated to be sent back to the states—his orders were on the way through in fact. Also, he is married and has two children at home. He was about 27, I think. We go right on though: only made one patrol today, but that was on account of the punk weather. My machine Is being carried in from the field where I lit; was unbroken, but couldn’t possibly take off there, as it was full of barbed wire.

Mail is still conspicuous by Its absence. It’s getting too dark to write—I’ll send love instead.

And if that wasn’t enough…

For all his many published stories, O.B. Myer’s didn’t really have any series characters. The few recurring characters he did have in the pages of Dare-Devil Aces, we’ve collected into a book we like to call “The Black Sheep of Belogue: The Best of O.B. Myers” which collects the two Dynamite Pike and his band of outlaw Aces stories and the handful of Clipper Stark vs the Mongol Ace tales. If you enjoyed this story, you’ll love these stories!

THIS week we have another story by Franklin M. Ritchie. Ritchie only wrote aviation yarns and his entire output—roughly three dozen stories—was between 1927 and 1930. Today we have another one from the lawyer who wrote pulp stories on the side to satisfy his yen for flying. From the May 1929 issue of Sky Birds, Ritchie gives us a tale of Lieutenant Hank Durant.

Hank Durant, flying instructor of Issoudun, A.W.O.L., was up in an unarmed observation training ship—the American battery was firing short of the Big Bertha—his radio dynamo was shot—but getting the Big Bertha meant more to him than just fighting!—There was Betty Kramer’s admiration for one thing and there was Phil Marcel to settle with for another!

• Download “In The Clouds” (May 1929, Sky Birds)

THIS week we have another story from one of the new flight of authors on the site this year—Andrew A. Caffrey. Caffrey, who was in the American Air Service in France during The Great War and worked for the air mail service upon his return, was a prolific author of aviation and adventure stories for both the pulps and slicks from the 1920’s through 1950. Here Caffrey tells the tale of Loop Murry, stunt flier for the movies who learns there’s sometime more to a man than meets the eye. From the May 1929 number of Sky Birds, it’s Andrew A. Caffrey’s “The Vanishing Ace!”

They all thought Tilton Mills was a dumb-Dora when it came to flying even though he wrote the script he was playing in. Loop Murry was doing the stunting, and damning the leading man below—but when Loop’s machine crashed in a burst of flame Tilton Mills turned out to be more than just actor-playwright!

• Download “The Vanishing Ace” (May 1929, Sky Birds)

THIS week we have another exciting air adventure with Rusty Wade from the pen of Frank Richardson Pierce. Pierce is probably best remembered for his prolific career in the Western Pulps. Writing under his own name as well as two pen names—Erle Stanly Pierce and Seth Ranger. Pierce’s career spanned fifty years and produced over 1,500 short stories, with over a thousand of these appearing in the pages of Argosy and the Saturday Evening Post.

Rusty’s passenger was an Alaskan, but curiously enough the old sour dough was headed for a middle-west city instead of the North. The man had offered him a thousand dollars to land him in time for a ten o’clock stockholders’ meeting and Rusty seemed in a fair way to claim the money. It was purely a sporting proposition with him. If he failed he would not get a cent.

From the pages of the September 1929 Air Trails, it’s our old pal Rusty Wade in Frank Richardson Pierce’s “Winged Conspiracy!”

Rusty Wade lands in the middle of white water and a snarling hail of bullets!

• Download “Winged Conspiracy” (September 1929, Air Trails)

THIS week we have another story by Franklin M. Ritchie. Ritchie only wrote aviation yarns and his entire output—roughly three dozen stories—was between 1927 and 1930. Today we have another one from the lawyer who wrote pulp stories on the side to satisfy his yen for flying. From an early issue of Flying Aces, Ritchie gives us a tale of bomber Jim Barker who longed to show everyone that even a bombing pilot can get Germany’s most ruthless Ace, by any means necessary! From the February 1929 issue of Flying Aces, it’s Franklin M. Ritchie’s “Say It With Bombs!”

When the swarm of German Fokkers swept out of the clouds and met an American bombing party they struck a lot of red-hot action they hadn’t counted on. Jim Barker believed in using whatever tools are at hand—and, “They Learned about bombs from him.”

• Download “Flaming Bullets” (February 1929, Flying Aces)

WE’RE back with a third of three stories featuring D. Campbell’s The Three Wasps—stories plagiarized right from The Three Mosquitoes! So instead of the young impetuous leader Kirby of the Mosquitoes, we have the young and impetuous Gary heading up the Wasps. Similarly, Campbell changed “Shorty” Carn to “Shorty” Keen complete with briar pipe and eldest and wisest Travis to Cooper. This time we have their first of five appearances in Harold Hersey’s Eagles of the Air, a short lived pulp that didn’t even run a year. From October 1929 to August 1930, Eagles of the Air had nine issues; The Wasps ran in five of them.

Oppenheim gave us a real nail-biter when he first wrote it—Campbell’s version is just as nail-biting. Important, time-sensitive information needed for an Allied offensive against the Boche has been hidden in the crotch of a forked tree down a dirt path in the woods on Field 23. Intelligence operatives have been unable to retrieve this information. As a last ditch effort, they figure a lone flyer may be able to land on the field, retrieve the information, and get out before the Germans in the area could stop them. Gary is this flyer. Landing in the midst of German troops and retrieving the info is the easy part, keeping his two pals—Cooper and Keen from tagging along is the hard part!

Death rumbled in the guns of the waiting German infantry—but death meant nothing to Gary. He swooped down on the scene and rode his quarry to the kill!

• Download “Dangerous Business” (November 1929, Eagles of the Air)

Editor’s Note: Although Campbell does try to make this one more his own by changing Field 21 to 23, he is already starting to get sloppy as he neglected to change “Mosquitoes” to “Wasps” in several instances. These have been highlighted in red when they occur.

And compare this to Oppenheim’s original version of the story with The Three Mosquitoes!

Stacked Cards

It was Intelligence stuff, and Kirby could not even tell his two buddies. He took off alone—for Germany—and how was he to know that the cards were stacked against him? Another of Oppenheim’s breathless thrillers.

• Download “Stacked Cards” (July 1928, War Birds)

WE’RE back with a second of three stories featuring D. Campbell’s The Three Wasps—stories plagiarized right from The Three Mosquitoes! So instead of the young impetuous leader Kirby of the Mosquitoes, we have the young and impetuous Gary heading up the Wasps. Similarly, Campbell changed “Shorty” Carn to “Shorty” Keen complete with briar pipe and eldest and wisest Travis to Cooper. This time we have their first of five appearances in Harold Hersey’s Eagles of the Air, a short lived pulp that didn’t even run a year. From October 1929 to August 1930, Eagles of the Air had nine issues; The Wasps ran in five of them.

This was classic when Oppenheim first wrote it—Gary takes on a lone enemy plane while returning from a mission, the two crash and Gary and the Boche flyer strike up an uneasy truce until they find out which side of the lines they are on and who is whose prisoner!

Lost in the trackless cloud wastes, Gary and the flying Baron settle to earth in strange territory. True to the code of the flying men a pact develops between them—but the German Baron tricks Gary. Then the real fight begins!

• Download “Reckless and Lucky” (October 1929, Eagles of the Air)

And compare this to Oppenheim’s original version of the story with The Three Mosquitoes!

Two Aces~and a Joker

Kirby, leader of the famous “Three Mosquitoes,” knew that he was too worn out to jump into another fight. He must get his plane back to the drome. But that lone Fokker that appeared suddenly below him looked too easy to miss—it was a cinch! He dived, with motor roaring, but it wasn’t such a cinch—

• Download “Two Aces ~ and a Joker” (June 1928, War Birds)

And check back on Monday for a third adventure featuring D. Campbell’s the Three Wasps!

WHILE recently looking through Harold Hersey’s short-run aviation titles, I came upon what I thought was a new series we could feature on the site, or maybe in a book if there were enough stories. Thumbing though the first issue of Hersey’s Eagles of the Air there was an ad for the next issue stating, “Another Story of The “WASPS”"

I looked in the next issue and there they were as well as running in three of the other seven issues of the run—five tales in all. I scanned the pages to read later and continued searching through the various titles.

Later, while reading the first one, I was thinking this all sounds so familiar. I was thinking this was a story I had just read—and it was, but then it was a story staring Ralph Oppenheim’s “Three Mosquitoes,” not D. Campbell’s “Three Wasps.” So I pulled up the Mosquitoes version of the story and Campbell’s story was a virtual word-for-word copy of of Oppenheim’s—all he did was change the names of the characters.

So Kirby, the young impetuous leader of the Three Mosquitoes becomes Gary, the young impetuous leader of the Three Wasps. “Shorty” Carn, the mild-eyed, corpulent little Mosquito becomes the mild-eyed, corpulent “Shorty” Keen, complete with briar pipe in Campbell’s Wasps. To complete the inseparable trio, Travis, the oldest and wisest of the Mosquitoes, has his name changed to Cooper.

The Text. A portion of the D. Campbell’s “Dangerous Business” (Eagles of the Air, Nov 1929) on the left and the similar passage from Ralph Oppenheim’s “Stacked Cards” (War Birds, Jul 1928) on the right.

I couldn’t believe it. So I checked out the Wasps story in the next issue and it was the same thing. And so on with the other three—sometimes even forgetting to change “Mosquitoes” to “Wasps”. All five stories were plagiarized from Oppenhiem’s stories. Instead of just stealing a random story like Robert A. Carter had done, D. Campbell was plagiarizing a whole series!

It seemed a bold move that nobody seemed to notice. Weirdly, I could find no mention of it in the newspapers of the time. The only hint of something being up was pointed out by a reader whose letter ran in the same issue as the final Wasps story.

So who was this D. Campbell? I thought at first it was just an alias for Oppenheim who was simply trying to repackage his Three Mosquitoes stories as The Three Wasps and get paid for them again—’cause nobody would be so bold, but D. Campbell it turns out, is an actual guy.

Donald Marr Campbell was born on September 2nd, 1904 in Cambellton, Texas and had his first story in the pulps, “King Ranch,” in the February 11th, 1928 issue of West. He’s credited with a couple dozen stories that run the gamut from aviation to detective to spy to westerns with his last appearing in the March 1932 issue of The Shadow

Campbell listed his occupation as Cafe Operator in the 1940 census and signed up for the war effort in 1942. Sadly, in the 1950 census he is listed as being unable to walk. He moved to Houston in 1956 where he lived until he passed away in 1974 at the age of 69 following an extended illness.

Looking at some of his other published stories, it turns out there was an earlier plagiarized Wasp story that appeared in the April 1929 Flying Aces. This would make it the first of the Wasp stories. The issue also include a letter of thanks for publishing from Campbell!

In all Campbell had six stories of the Wasps published. Each was a virtual word for word copy of a preexisting story of the Three Mosquitoes by Ralph Oppenhiem. They were:

• Flying To Glory (Flying Aces, Apr 1929) is based on Oppenheim’s Down from the Clouds (War Stories, Aug 19, 1927)
• Reckless and Lucky (Eagles of the Air, Oct 1929) is based on Oppenheim’s Two Aces~and A Joker (War Birds, Jun 1928)
• Dangerous Business (Eagles of the Air, Nov 1929) is based on Oppenheim’s Stacked Cards (War Birds, Jul 1928)
• Luck of the Wasps (Eagles of the Air, Jan 1930) is from Oppenheim’s An Ace In The Hole (War Stories Mar 29, 1928)
• Three Flying Fools (Eagles of the Air Feb 1930) is from Oppenheim’s Get That Gun (War Stories Nov 8, 1928)
• The Wasps (Eagles of the Air Mar 1930) is from Oppenheim’s Two Aces—In Dutch (War Stories, Dec 6, 1928)

But what better way than to see for yourself. So we’ll be posting couple of the Wasps’ adventures over the next week. As the Three Mosquitoes and the Three Wasps would both say, “Let’s Go!”

The first of D. Campbell’s Three Wasps stories appeared in the pages of the April 1929 Flying Aces. The greatest fighting war-birds on the Western Front roar into action. The three Spads flying in a V formation so precise that they seemed as one. On their trim khaki fuselages, were three identical insignias—each a huge, black-painted picture of a grim-looking wasp. In the cockpits sat the reckless, inseparable trio known as the “Three Wasps.” Captain Gary, their impetuous young leader, always flying point. On his right, “Shorty” Keen, the mild-eyed, corpulent little Mosquito, who loved his sleep. And on Kirby’s left, completing the V, the eldest and wisest of the trio—long-faced and taciturn Cooper.

A new C.O. has been assigned to the squadron and he can’t stand pilots who “grand-stand” which is the Mosquitoes stock-in-trade and boy do they catch hell when they get on the C.O.’s wrong side—that is until the C.O. gets in a jam and it’s trick flying that’ll save him when the Boche attack!

The C.O. called them babies and forbade stunt flying. Not content with that he separated the Three Wasps, the greatest flying, fighting trio he had. Hatred was rampant. But all this was forgotten when the great call came!

• Download “Flying To Glory” (April 1929, Flying Aces)

Compare this to Oppenheim’s original version of the story with The Three Mosquitoes!

Down from the Clouds

The C.O. of the flying field was sore—the Three Mosquitoes, dare-devils supreme were doing their “grand-stand stuff” again. But when the C.O. found himself in difficulties, with Boche planes swarming all around him—things were different. The best flying story of the month.

• Download “Down form the Clouds” (August 19, 1927, War Stories)

And check back on Friday when the Wasps will be back with another exciting adventure!